Skip to main content

An Open Letter to Aaron Sorkin


Mr. Sorkin,

Please. Return to writing television programs. I am stuck at home with an injured neck and back and my activity level has been severely limited. I find myself sitting on my couch watching entirely too much television. Bad television. The highlight of my day? Watching reruns of The West Wing on Bravo. I need you to return to writing programs where the viewer is required a modicum of intelligence. I am on prescribed medications that render me sleepy and unable to operate heavy machinery, not stupid. Rescue me. Please.

I repent for all the times I referred to West Wing as "The Left Wing." I apologize for every time I groaned at hearing the same lines in The West Wing that were used in the movie, The American President. I am truly sorry for using your name in vain when Studio 60 was canceled. It was a knee jerk reaction and not your fault. I know that now. However, as much as I regret my prior behavior, it is only fair to warn you that I cannot be placated with suggestions to watch A Few Good Men and Charlie Wilson's War. Been there, done that-multiple times already. I need new mind candy. You are for me what more cowbell is for Walken. I have a bad back and the only cure is more Sorkin.

This is my first post in quite some time. I know all three of the people who read my blog are going to be highly suspect of me and may never read another thing I write. They may even question my salvation. It is well known, after all, that you are a (gulp) Democrat. I don't care. Desperate times call for desperate measures and so I am willing to beg you, even at considerable risk to my reputation as my pastor reads my blog! It is a chance I am willing to take after making a few things clear. No, I do not agree with your politics. I am not ready to join the Dark Side also known as the Democratic Party. I am still a bible believing, pro-life, complimentarian Republican woman. I am merely saying that some decently written entertainment would be a nice change from the mess that's offered on the idiot box these days, even when I disagree with the writer's presuppositions and conclusions. I am begging you, Aaron Sorkin, write something for television!


Respectfully yours until the drug induced haze lifts and I am able to read books again,
Rambling Rosemarie

Comments

Well, at least I am happy to see you "blogging" again!! I hope you get better soon . . . we miss you at Grace Baptist Church!!

Pastor Bill
Hobster said…
Rozie--you failed to mention Sorkin's first series, Sports Night. I know you're not a sports fan--doesn't matter. Trust me on this one. A lot of it is proto-West Wing...

Oh, btw, he is working on something...haven't heard about any particular network looking at it yet, but he is (last I heard) on to something new
Carla Rolfe said…
Pfft, I knew more than 3 people read your blog. Even if one of us is backlogged in blog reading.
{{{ rozie }}}

Popular posts from this blog

Spiritual Aphasia aka Senseless Theology

I was recently asked why I read theology and follow theological debates. "It's all just words and opinions." Words. Words on a paper, words on a blog. Words that travel invisibly through our airwaves and our minds. What would our inner monologue consist of without words? Harsh words, gentle words, untrue words, and solid you-can-die-behind them words. They have secret lives in the depths of our souls. They overflow in torrents of grief and joy. They seep out of our character flaws, wearing down the weak convictions that hold them back until they contaminate all those around us. All of us are stained within and without by the raw sewage of unkind words. Our souls are in jeopardy for want of The Word. Jesus Christ. The Gospel. The Good News. Words matter. Doctrine matters. Theology Matters. What you win them with is what you win them to. I study theology because I was lost too long in a world that scrambles truth with its own ideas and preferences. I was fed a diet of tosse

Super Church a song for the Emergent-sy

In the early 70s I was in a youth choir at my church. Our youth pastor was a musician and his way of connecting with us as a group was through the choir and music. Somehow there was an affiliation between him and The Continental Singers, New Hope and Jeremiah People. He was worked with Moishe Rosen of Jews for Jesus too, I think. Are any of these names familiar to you? Though I remember the church fondly I was a profoundly lost and troubled young woman during my years there. That and time have muddled the memories quite a bit. Today I was digging through some old paperwork and one of the books to the musical we did. It's Getting Late For the Great Planet Earth, a folk rock oratorio by Cam Floria. Yes, that's right. Cam Floria put Hal Lindsey to music. There's a lot to laugh about and some to groan about but as I was looking through the songs and remembering, I found this little ditty and I only wish I could sing it for you. Just remember that this is circa 1972 and even th

What if.....

...what if I just need a place to let some words spill out? What if they spill out in bouquets of bright colors and pleasing scents but their frames are made of snakes and lies? Will you the reader be able to tell? Will it matter? When words smell like lilacs and honeysuckle do you care what lies beneath them? Perfumed syllables cover the stench of hope's decay. A violet or two will fool most surface dwellers, allowing them to pass by quickly and unaware.  Is that what words are supposed to do? What if my aesthetics with words are similar to Morticia Addams' with flowers?  What happens when luscious blooms are discarded?  When the ragged silhouette of thorns is all that remains will you still see the beauty?  Perhaps we'll find out.